A Little Older
by Jargonelle
Summary: One shot: They had just met too young. Melancholy Mai x Jounouchi. Mai centric.


A Little Older  
  
by Jargonelle  
  
One-Shot: They had just met too young. Melancholy Mai x Jounouchi. Mai- centric.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!  
  
.....  
  
Maybe if they'd both been older, it would have been different.  
  
She could have been in her late thirties, a professional woman who'd travelled the world, had seen and done it all and who was ready to settle down. He could have been just stepping into his prime, secure in himself and his work, wanting stability in his love life, but still fun, still bright, still really living. They could have had two children, a girl and a boy, even though she was older than usual for a mother and had been warned of the risks. There could have been a little drama when she was eight months pregnant for the first time, but everything would have turned out all right in the end. Of course, both children would share their golden hair, the girl named for his favourite actress, the boy named for her late father.  
  
It could have been perfect, had they been older.  
  
Instead, she was a woman in her twenties, who didn't do anything really but play a children's card game, and he was a schoolboy, who had homework and essays and exams to think about. She could barely remember being at school; it was nothing but a distant memory to her. He couldn't contemplate ever finally getting the chance to leave.  
  
She lived on her own, had credit cards, could drive, could drink. He couldn't do any of those things and he wouldn't like it if he knew how many bottles of wine she could get through after a bad week.  
  
She could remember turning twenty-one in a now burnt out nightclub. A few guys had bought her drinks, danced with her, groped her and offered to show her 'a good time'. She had turned them down and gone home alone. One of them had been really sweet; one of them, she suspected, had been married.  
  
He could remember turning sixteen in his best friend's living room, a cheesy horror film on the television, a few half-eaten pizzas littering the floor. His friends had wished him a happy birthday; bought him presents they had spent hours choosing and had drank lemonade and hot chocolate. Not together of course, although Honda, in his stupidity, had tried it.  
  
He wasn't naïve; he hadn't had a picture-perfect life with a happy, stable family. She knew that, she knew what that was like even.  
  
It didn't change things. It couldn't change things.  
  
.....  
  
They were at different stages of the same journey.  
  
He, ironically, already had the end in the sight, whilst she was stuck retracing her steps in a seemingly endless maze.  
  
He had stepped out onto the open road, taken a few wrong turns, but had met some worthy travellers along the way who had steered him true and given him everything. He was safe with them and they were safe with him.  
  
She had kept in the alleyways as long as possible, hiding, watching and waiting. She didn't know whether to trust the words of recent strangers or her own flawed instincts. Neither seemed to be guiding her forwards, yet neither seemed to be urging her back.  
  
She was lost.  
  
Maybe she wasn't cut out for a life on the straight and narrow.  
  
.....  
  
The letter was unfolded on her coffee table, professional and abrupt, with her name typed in impersonal black capitals along the top. She wondered idly what it would be like to see 'Jounouchi' written instead of her current family name; 'Kujaku' tied her to no one.  
  
Smiling at her foolishness, she shook her head and the thought was gone. She had thought herself past such fanciful dreams. One day she would marry, of that she was certain, probably for love of a name or of status, but until then she would take pride in herself.  
  
The contract required her appearance at a televised debate about women working in high-profile leisure industries. Apparently, there was to be an enquiry into why so few of the top ranking Duellists were female. The letter requested that she wore 'an outfit of a provocative nature', in order to prove a point.  
  
Angrily, she reached for her telephone and hit the speed-dial, number one, to complain, but before the automated answering machine kicked in, she thought better of it.  
  
She spent that evening going through her wardrobe.  
  
.....  
  
The Harpy Ladies, the Amazons, the huntresses who fired their arrows in her honour. Those were her truest companions, her most trustworthy friends. Mythical and mysterious, they were not magical; they fought using weapons of war and of nature.  
  
She arranged them all across her bed, reshuffling and rethinking strategies, sorting by rarity, by attack strength and by personal preference.  
  
The world of Duel Monsters was ending; soon it would be time to start searching for another purpose in life, another reason to wake up in the morning. The thought grieved her more than it ever should have done.  
  
She would miss the competition, the excitement, the atmosphere... the other competitors. She would miss Jounouchi, would miss seeing his cocky grin, feeling his supportive hand on her arm and hearing his cries of encouragement from the sidelines whenever she felt down. She would miss him more than she had ever missed anyone.  
  
Yet it had to end, soon, otherwise she would waste her life waiting for him, and there was no guarantee he would do the same. She wasn't like him; she didn't believe in luck, fate and fortune.  
  
.....  
  
"Mai," he murmured, his eyes pleading and warm and echoing promises of devotion, "please... you don't have to do this." He was desperate now, hands gripping her shoulders tightly.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, kissing him for the first time, tasting their flame and extinguishing it with a trail of cold saliva. "We're just too young."  
  
She turned and left, closing the door behind her with a trembling hand and a head full of guilt and regret.  
  
.....  
  
She lounged in her apartment, her castle, her prison and marked the hours of the night with glasses of bittersweet wine. When morning came she was still ready to take on the world, still willing to fight anyone who stood in her way, still hoping for that one final break.  
  
Still waiting for the day when she would be a little older.  
  
.....  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
